Monstrously Mild
by Captain Buggles
Summary: If you keep your eyes peeled and your heart open, you can make friends just about any time, any where! ...But seven-year-old Jean definitely didn't expect to find an unlikely friend living right inside of his own closet. Especially not when he originally thought that same friend would eat him. Modern AU, Marco is literally a monster child. Romance when they're older.
1. Chapter 1

**Monstrously Mild**

**I made an AU where monsters are real, and Marco is the monster in Jean's closet. Why? Why not? It's already a series where people turn into giant humanoid monsters, after all.**

Jean first noticed it when he was only seven years old. That prickling, uneasy, restless feeling, the feeling like something was staring at him. It always happened when he was alone, in bed, with the lights out. And being only seven years old, the small child was at a lost on what to do. His parents understood, to some extent, but they always called it his "imagination". They would tuck him in well, close the closet door, and tell him all sorts of tricks to "make monsters go away", but it was nothing but a band-aid. There were only so many nights he was allowed to sleep with them before their leniency and patience began to run thin, to make matters worse. After a few weeks, all that stood between him and that mysterious, silent watcher was a nightlight, a small stuffed horse, and his favorite horse patterned pajamas. The feeling of a vast, vague unknown plagued him for over two months before he finally had a definite idea of what it was. And 'it' had four eyes of deep, dimly glowing scarlet, redder than any fruity candy Jean had ever eaten.

Jean immediately turned away when he saw it. He was tucked in well, his sheets were freshly washed, and his mother had carefully selected the tamest, happiest bedtime story possible to not get her child any more worked up than he had to be, but it was no use. He saw those eyes staring right at him, belonging to something whose body he couldn't see. It stood right in the closet door, the same door that he was absolutely certain his parents had closed for him, even stuffing a towel underneath it to make it harder to open, and impossible for anything to crawl out from beneath the door.

Jean could hardly even scream. His room wasn't terribly large, so the unknown fiend felt like it was incredibly close. His bed was on the left side of the room, tucked into the far corner, and the closet was on the right side, next to a recently installed 32-inch TV, and significantly closer to the door. He was surely, surely too slow to burst from the tucked-in covers and make it all the way to the hallway. Perhaps he could crawl out the window! It seemed like a marvelous idea to his terrified and increasingly irrational seven-year-old mind, and the window was right next to his bed. That was surely much more advantageous than the hallway. It was the second floor, but there was no other way. Anything was better than being eaten by such a horrifying creature. It'd be just like fire safety videos. Only with a monster instead of fire. Jean opened the window and bravely stuck his head out, his face dimly illuminated by the streetlights. Yeah, of course he could do this! It was nothing! Of course he could-

Jean looked down as the wind lightly ruffled his hair and almost immediately realized he couldn't do it. It looked at least ten times higher than it did when he simply looked at his house from outside. But right when he was about to retreat from the window and opt to hide under his covers instead, he suddenly felt a slick, cool tendril, about the width and thickness of three of his little fingers, wrap around his arm. It was dark, shiny green and ended in a claw, and it had an exoskeleton with countless joints, as if it belonged to some freakish, ungodly insect. Jean just about lost it when he frantically looked to see what it was. Screeching like a banshee, Jean fought against the tendril like his life depended on it, and thrust himself through the window before he could even think about it, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. However, before he could fall, yet another tendril almost immediately seized his waist. There was the sound of something behind him being dragged against carpet, making hissing and grunting noises as Jean's head dipped towards the ground and his hands desperately grabbed at the side of the house, but he was eventually pulled back in with one mighty, unsettling, jerking motion. He was screaming and sobbing all the while, believing his entire pathetically short life was soon to be over. Where on EARTH were his parents?!

But instead of a monster's sharp teeth, he felt the tendrils let him go, and one of them began to gingerly stroke his head while something behind him made soft, trilling, gurgling noises. Then, with a surprisingly childish, boyish voice, it crudely spoke. "Don't afraid." It said, as a tendril gently prodded Jean's face so he'd turn around to face the monster. Jean was still bawling his eyes out, completely scared out of his mind, but the creature persisted. Jean felt an oddly calming, numbing sensation overcome him as the creature inhaled deeply. It made an odd whistling sound along with it, and some odd substance rose from Jean's skin like a thick black haze before being sucked into the monster's mouth, and three spiracles on each of its gaunt, bony sides.

Now, for whatever reason, Jean was able to calmly get a good look at the monster. It was…honestly, kind of cool, now that he had somehow calmed down so much. The eyes that were bright red before were now yellow, with wide, curious catlike pupils. Two small eyes atop two larger eyes, the larger eyes being proportionately larger than any human's would be. Despite that, the monster actually did have a rather humanoid appearance. He appeared to be a boy about Jean's age, but much thinner and somewhat taller, with sage green skin that was mottled with what looked like dark green freckles across his face and arms. He had short, messy, somewhat greasy black hair. His face certainly carried a childish and nonaggressive demeanor, despite everything. He had thin black lips; small, sharp, protruding canines; long, pointed, ears that slightly stuck out; and a small, rounded nose. Further up, he had two small, yellow, conical, backward-arching horns on the top of his forehead. He was barefoot, and both his fingernails and toenails were long, sharp, curved, and pitch black, looking more like claws or talons. He wore no shirt, only somewhat dirty khakis, and four long tendrils hung lazily from his lower back, scattered on the floor like rope.

"No afraid now?" the monster boy said gently as Jean stared at him. The monster's two smaller eyes closed and somehow vanished, and his tendrils slunk into his body like a snail retracting its eyestalks.

"How come my parents aren't in here?" Jean asked, looking out towards the hallway in confusion.

"I keep sound here. Too worry for them." the strange boy answered matter-of-factly, like it was completely normal.

"…W-who are you?" Jean asked, completely confused by both the grammar and by how such a thing was even possible.

"Marklaq'fjylxcoczyx Bowyhqisgyxsu'zdt" the boy said, his throat tensing and his tongue contorting and writhing about as he spoke like it were the easiest thing in the world.

"What." Jean blankly replied. He was too tired for this. And really, why wasn't he afraid? Here he was, looking at a real live monster, but he hardly felt inclined to scream or get extremely excited. He just wanted to... talk to him, basically.

"…Marco." Marco replied. "It easy-talk."

"…And you're the monster in my closet?" Jean dared to say. Marco nodded eagerly.

"Fall bad. I save." Marco said happily, flashing a sharp-toothed grin.

"…If you're apposed to be mean, why would you do that?" Jean asked.

"Not mean, just scare." Marco explained, frowning slightly.

"Why?"

"Eat scare."

"That doesn't make any sense…" Jean mumbled. Marco paused for a moment, then inhaled deeply and made the whistling noise again, and a small amount of black haze was sucked away from Jean and into the spiracles on Marco's sides.

"Oh!" Jean cried. "…Feelings…look like something?" he asked, cocking his small head a little. Marco just nodded. "But I've been afraid of you lots of times, how come you're so skinny?" Jean asked.

"Don't like scare you. Bad. You cry, you hurt self. Feel bad. Not scare you." Marco explained, looking down towards the floor.

"…Aren't you hungry though?" Jean asked. Of all the things to feel, he felt somewhat sorry for the monster child. Marco had to do something he didn't want to just so he could eat? Marco just nodded slowly in response.

"It okay. Not need lots." He said, although he put a hand over his stomach as he did so.

"…Can you eat anything else?" Jean asked.

"Trash, dirt, bugs…" Marco said, although he didn't seem too thrilled about it.

"That sounds really nasty. What about people food?" Jean tried again.

"Bad thief. Feel bad. Humans notice." Marco admitted, as he fiddled with his hands and looked at the floor, apparently embarrassed.

"…What if I get you some?" Jean said. Marco's smaller eyes bulged back into existence and all four eyes then became deep orange. His mouth slowly opened and a thick puddle of drool threatened to spill out.

"…Please." Marco said with poorly masked desperation.

"Alright, I'll be back." Jean said with a smile, suddenly feeling giddy with the simultaneous feelings of responsibility and naughtiness. He skillfully snuck past his parents' bedroom and made his way downstairs. Not that he really knew what a monster would like, but if he ate things that are hardly even food anyway, then anything would probably be good. Quickly searching for what would be easiest and fastest to take, he grabbed a pack of sliced ham, a large can of ravioli, an apple-flavored juice box, and three packets of fruit snacks. He scurried back upstairs with the modest haul, hoping there would at least be one thing Marco liked in the bunch.

Jean was far from disappointed.

As soon as he got on his knees and put all the food down, Marco immediately sat down and tore into the pack of ham with sloppy, reckless abandon, his eyes solid red as he stuffed slice after slice in his mouth, making noisy moans and gurgles of pleasure as he did so. Next was the can, which Marco briefly struggled with before taking out a clawed tendril and effortlessly punching through the top, completely ignoring the tab on the lid. Marco used the tendril like a can opener, crudely sawing the lid off before dumping the contents into his mouth, and his long, blood red tongue licked up the remains. This was how Jean learned that Marco's jaw was apparently like a snake's, to both his amazement and chagrin. Marco blew through the fruit snacks in record time, ripping each one apart with his claw like nails, then indiscriminately devouring them. The juice box came last, and Marco still made absolutely no attempt to be neat. Instead, he took the entire thing into his mouth and violently chomped down without opening his mouth, causing some of the liquid to seep out through his lips. But he still swallowed it all at once without issue, before spitting out the sticky, utterly destroyed box, and the still unopened straw. Jean could only stare at Marco in astonishment, not sure if he should be disgusted or impressed. But he didn't have long to stare, since Marco rapidly extended all four tendrils and pulled Jean into a prolonged bear-hug with both them and his arms. The whole time, he made an oddly soothing noise that was like gurgling crossed with loud purring. Jean couldn't help but giggle a little at how the sound reverberated in his own chest.

"Friend." Marco said with a gentle, genuine joy, squeezing a little tighter as he did so.

"Wow...uh...okay..but...your claws are…hurting a little…" Jean mumbled, prompting Marco to immediately let go.

"Sorry." He said quietly, his eyes steadily fading to yellow again.

"It's fine. Hey, no one can hear us, right?" Jean asked, his eyes glinting with childish excitement. Marco nodded. Jean went over to the flat screen TV and turned it on, causing Marco to squint and hide his upper eyes as Jean fiddled with the remote until the screen switched to the title screen of a Nintendo Gamecube. Marco watched in fascination as Jean grabbed the controller and started up Super Smash Brothers Melee. "I can teach you how to play!" Jean said excitedly, handing a controller to Marco. "My friend Connie says I suck but he doesn't know what he's talking about." Jean said, as he went to the character select screen.

Jean was probably incredibly lucky the first genuine meeting between he and Marco had taken place on a night soon after the start of summer vacation, since he ended up being awake much longer than expected, explaining countless things to his new friend. Marco was a very fast learner and seemed absolutely enraptured by the video game, but there was so much to cover, and Marco was so curious that it ended up sapping a lot of Jean's time and energy anyway. Before he knew it, Jean was on the floor, sound asleep. He was quickly covered by a blanket that Marco retrieved from his bed, while Marco kept playing, periodically looking at Jean with a wide grin. Eventually, a bit after the sun rose, Marco opted to go to sleep with him, but not before throwing away the evidence of what Jean had brought him and turning the game off.

Jean's mother hardly even knew what to make of her son sleeping in the middle of the floor with a perfectly good bed to use, but it was honestly a great improvement over constantly asking to sleep in her room. She was completely unable to notice the green skinned monster sleeping beside Jean, which had steadily shifted into a different form while sleeping. Now Marco's torso and abdomen were unnaturally long and thin, and his skin was partially covered in hard, shiny, interlocking plating, like a cross between scales and exoskeleton. A spiky, bony crest ran along his spine, and he had spindly webbed fingers, along with long, thin, unnatural arms that bifurcated at the elbows. A long, blood red tongue lolled out of his mouth. On his face, and other areas with no plating, dark green "freckles" moved busily across his skin as if they had minds of their own. He slept tightly curled up, like some unusual nightmare of a cat, and it was indeed a wonderful thing that no one could see him as he slept.

It was only the first of many nights that Jean would spend being friends with a monster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Monstrously Mild**  
**Ch 2**

* * *

Things continued on with surprising normalcy after that first night. Quite quickly, Jean realized he truly was the only one who had any idea Marco existed at all. His parents made absolutely no mention of it. However, there were times when Jean didn't fully trust Marco. Even when he did, there were still more times when Marco was a bit hard for Jean's mind to wrap around, however impressionable and innocent it was. One of those times was the morning directly after their first positive interaction.

Jean woke up and almost screamed when he noticed the too-slick, too-smooth, green creature curled up next to him. It was sound asleep, spiracles lightly whistling, as if nothing was wrong, but Jean definitely didn't feel the same way. "M-Marco?!" Jean cried in surprise, kicking the blankets away and scrambling to put distance between him and this odd being. "Marco, what happened?! Did you turn evil? Were you just tricking me so you'd be strong enough to eat me?!" Jean shouted fearfully. If this monster was so brave and powerful it could just eat him in broad daylight, he was a complete fool to ever feed it at all.

"Mmmnn…Jean?" Marco said, slowly opening his main eyes and blinking a few times. "What's wrong?"

"Don't ask ME that, why do you look like that?!" Jean cried. Now that it was morning, Marco was an entirely different kind of scary. The kind of scary you didn't expect; that unnatural, out-of-place kind that you had no good answer to.

Marco looked at himself in mild confusion, even turning his head 180 degrees to look at his back, which sort of made Jean's skin crawl, but after a moment, Marco's eyes flushed deep red. "Sorry, Jean, sorry!" Marco frantically cried. "It normal!" Marco explained, before fusing his bifurcated forelimbs, shortening his arms and abdomen, and popping his spine into a straighter position. The slick plating on him seemed to just melt back into his skin. "Not scare now?" Marco said hopefully, as Jean just stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You can… j-just change what you look like?" Jean said in disbelief, as he uncomfortably tottered in place. What if he just ripped him up right now, right here, in broad daylight?! He already said he could make it so his parents didn't hear him…

"Yes." Marco replied in a small voice. "Does… does it…" Marco seemed to be struggling to find words. "Make hate me?" he asked, frowning. His eyes became a dirty, murky yellow. When Jean didn't answer, Marco just sat on the floor, curled his body into an impossibly tight ball, and wrapped his tendrils around himself to hide his head. "I get. I bad. I scary. Can't trust." he muttered with a whimper, the kind you'd expect from an animal. He then unwrapped a single tendril, hooked its claw on the doorframe of the closet, and steadily pulled himself in. It was really more pitiful than scary, now that Jean had time to think about it.

"Marco… Marco, wait…" Jean said regretfully, as he slowly approached the closet. "Marco, I-" Jean started, only to see that Marco had somehow just… disappeared. Jean looked around the closet in confusion, moving toys and hanging clothing, but not seeing even a single trace of Marco. Jean was getting more confused by the second. Marco had obviously gone in, and it wasn't very big at all, so why wasn't he there? "Marco, where are you?" Jean tried. He paused for a moment, before feeling a frigid, prickly, "fuzzy" sort of sensation in the air. For the briefest moment, there was a sharp, pungent, sour smell unlike anything Jean had ever experienced before,as a shadowy blob materialized and Marco slid out.

"Here." Marco said in a flat, simple tone, but once again, Jean practically flung himself away from the strange child.

"W-what?! How?!"

"Went to room. Thought you not want see." Marco explained.

"N-no, it's not that, I just… You're weird." Jean said, if only because he didn't know what else to say. Wow, that was sure to make Marco feel better!

"I know…" Marco said with a sigh, while crouched to the floor.

"B-but in a good way!" Jean added on quickly, as he forced himself to come closer.

Marco sniffed the air for a moment, then gave a deep, rattling sigh, sucking some strange white mist from Jean's skin. He scrunched his face up in concentration for a moment, then exhaled. "Liar." Marco said with absolute certainty. "But I get tastes. Tastes mean you want me feel better." Marco said with a small smile. "You feel bad but want good. So it okay." Marco explained.

"Yeah, let's go with that…" Jean mumbled, not really even understanding what Marco meant.

"I taste lots of not-know, so I tell you. I eight year old, came from egg. Big, soft, silk egg, like cocoon. Came here… four moon ago. You… onest… no, first human I ever scare, but I not like it. I not like scare. Hard and lonely. So lonely. No fun. Can't go home." Marco explained in a low voice, as he whimpered again. "I have mom, and dad, and zdakrrujyi, but they only come moon fresh, and sky black." Marco said.

"A… zda wha-?" Jean asked, although it was far from the only odd thing.

"Like…third parent." Marco hesitantly explained. "Weave egg, mix parents baby-make slurry in body, fill egg with baby-make slurry."

"That sounds disgusting!" Jean cried.

"Sorry!" Marco exclaimed, his tendrils shooting upwards to cover his mouth.

"I-it's fine…" Jean forced himself to say. He wanted to add in a smile, but he couldn't quite get that far. A rich, meaty smell interrupted his thoughts instead. It was wafting into his room from the kitchen downstairs, and Marco was starting to drool.

"…Aaahhh…" Marco longingly moaned, as his eyes became a deep orange and his tongue lolled out of his mouth.

"…You want some?" Jean said. "I can't really tell my parents about you, but I-I can act like I'm still hungry and get extra…" Jean said. It wouldn't be very suspicious, he wasn't exactly the thinnest child and his mother wasn't very strict about food.

"R-really?" Marco asked in absolute awe, the tips of his tendrils squirming as he literally smiled from ear to ear. It was more than a little creepy. Marco had entirely too many teeth, but Jean knew he couldn't lose heart and hurt Marco's feelings again.

"Yeah, if you're always so hungry, I can't just let you starve…" Jean said. It was comforting to know that even though Marco was apparently starving, he had no intention of eating him.

"Thank you!" Marco gratefully gushed, wrapping Jean in a powerful but still slightly painful hug. "Friend! Friend!" Marco sang in elation, before he suddenly stopped and let go, seeming to have remembered something. "Does… does Jean want to be friend?" Marco asked in a small voice.

"…Yeah." Jean said after a brief moment of hesitation. There was no going back now, it'd be cruel to just rip Marco's hope away from him. "We're friends now." Jean said.

"Okay! So, uhm, uhm….Ahh…" Marco started, as his eyes steadily became a bright, brilliant red, and actually started to glow. Marco leaned in closely to Jean, causing the child to back away a little and look at him apprehensively. Marco's spiracles were now quickly expanding and contracting, making a small whistling noise as he stared intensely at Jean. "Can't… don't know how say… thing I want…" Marco said in mild distress. "Sign of friends. Want to… make sure friends." Marco explained vaguely.

"Uh… What's that mean?" Jean asked, feeling more unsettled by the second. Marco opened his mouth again, but then closed it and looked thoughtful for a second before continuing.

"I have to do thing that might be nasty…" Marco said timidly. "So you get it." Marco said. "Hand out, please." Marco said, prodding one of Jean's hand with a tendril.

"Uh… okay…" Jean said.

"Don't move hand, okay?" Marco said. Jean just nodded, stiffening in nervous anticipation. Marco wrapped a tendril around Jean's wrist and cleared his throat, then reared his head back and made a single sharp, loud, slurping inhalation before spitting a small, moist, opaque bubble into Jean's hand. It was like a tiny liquid balloon, slowly emitting a lightly glowing gas.

"Gross…" Jean said, making a face.

"Sorry! Uhm… you need breathe it!" Marco cried fearfully, wincing as he said it.

"I need to _what?!" _Jean said.

"Pop it, breathe gas! It have what I want tell you!" Marco said in a begging tone.

"…I don't know if I can…" Jean said, trying to pull his hand away.

"_Friend_?" Marco questioned with a heartbreaking whimper, his eyes going murky yellow again. With that, Jean momentarily grimaced before crushing the bubble in his hand and thoughtlessly inhaling as much of the resulting burst of gas as possible.

Like an incredibly powerful daydream, Jean was suddenly overwhelmed by thoughts and visions that weren't his. He saw himself and Marco, still in the same spot. But now, Marco had just taken a dense, wet, globular mass from his mouth and placed it into Jean's cupped hands. It glowed with forest green light and had thin little tendrils that waved about as it slithered around in Jean's hands like an alien slug, with copious amounts of some odd mucus. Immediately afterwards, Marco cupped his hands in front of his mouth and stretched his chest out wide, inhaling as deeply as he could. A large quantity of golden brown gas drifted gracefully from Jean's body, mainly his eyes and mouth. It was streaked with crimson, and it twinkled like a tiny, shining cinnamon nebula. It coalesced into what looked like a tiny planet, merrily spinning and flying about in Marco's cupped hands. Jean felt strange and a bit hollow, but oddly at peace as the process happened. Then, both imaginary boys swallowed the strange objects. Jean understood at that moment. The hollow feeling disappeared, replaced by an intimate knowledge of Marco, a deep and instinctual connection, even though the vision only gave him a vague approximation of what it'd truly be like. The vision then faded as quickly as it came, leaving Jean slightly disoriented and rather put off.

"You want us to trade pieces of our souls?! And yours is… is some slimy, _slithery **thing**_ that you threw up and I have to _swallow_?!" Jean asked, voice rich with disbelief and revulsion.

Marco's eye color only became an even darker yellow as Jean said it, as he seemed to realize how ridiculous it was now that Jean said it out loud. "Sorry…" Marco said softly, letting go of Jean's wrist and slumping to the floor.

"I…" Jean started. "Come on… I-I didn't mean it like that… I mean… I'm just a human, so we don't do stuff like that and I don't really get it… so… I'm sorry…" Jean said hesitantly. "I'll still get you breakfast and, uh, we're still friends and stuff… I just… don't want us to trade chunks of our souls or… whatever the heck that was." Jean said.

"I get it." Marco said dejectedly, as Jean somewhat awkwardly left the room to go eat.

But as promised, Jean did get a plate for Marco, which he took upstairs with great care. Marco seemed to forget all about his disappointment as Jean re-entered the room with bacon, hash browns, scrambled eggs, and a warm, buttery biscuit. Jean put the paper plate on his dresser and suddenly remembered he forgot to get Marco his own fork, but that apparently didn't matter at all to the monster child. Marco practically dove onto the food, eating without even using his hands, occasionally using his tendrils as crude forks. In an incredibly short time, the plate was clean. Jean could only stare at it in wonder as Marco immediately pounced on him and hugged him, purring and gurgling in gracious contentment.

"Jean… Scare?" Marco cautiously asked after a couple of moments, eyes now a glowing red again as he backed away from Jean.

"…Alright… knock yourself out…" Jean said with a sigh, bracing himself.

"…Huh?" Marco asked. "Why? W-what did I do?" he said fearfully, his eyes becoming a loud shade of orange.

"…Uh, nothing, I said it's okay for you to scare me… That's what the expression means, that you- AAAAHHHHHH!" Jean's explanation was cut off by Marco suddenly unhinging his jaw and lunging at Jean with a sharp hiss and acrid breath, all four eyes red and exposed. Marco now had what seemed like a literally _impossible_ number of sharp, gleaming white teeth; at angles and lengths that seemed absolutely _wrong_. It hurt Jean's head just to look into his mouth. Jean was pinned to the floor by Marco's tendrils, and only then did he realize just how strong Marco could be, even severely underfed. Marco gave an unholy, rattling, shrieking wail, and Jean screamed louder than ever as Marco's eyes went back to a light yellow and he let go of Jean, deeply inhaling in the process. Thick, plentiful, pitch black gas left Jean's body and entered Marco's, quickly calming Jean down.

"So sorry." Marco said. He helped Jean sit up and then gently hugged him and purred. "Scare best when not know." Marco said.

"It's alright… You feel better now?" Jean asked. "Don't hold back, just get it over with… Or I might just die next time…" Jean said in exasperation, even though he could no longer remember just what Marco had done very clearly. He could remember that he was very scared, but the thought didn't really scare him much when he reflected on it.

"Fine now. Thanks." Marco said happily, nuzzling into Jean's body.

"Uh, do you always gotta be touching me?" Jean asked with slight discomfort, noting that Marco's hair was rather oily.

"Jean soft. Jean warm." Marco said matter-of-factly, seeming to have no intention of stopping. "Wait…" Marco sniffed a few times, and drew a bit of mist into his nose from Jean's skin. He reluctantly stopped and scooted away from Jean after a short pause. "Sorry…"

"It's fine" Jean said. He really wasn't entirely lying. After all, in less than 24 hours, Jean had never gotten such a strong sense that someone really liked him so much. Sure he had friends, but Marco's affection was so unique, so distinctive, that he couldn't doubt it. It was like playing with a puppy; you would be incredibly hard pressed to suspect that the puppy wasn't completely thrilled to be with you. It was truly a jarring concept. Here was Marco; kind, timid and honest… But he was also an incredibly strange, alien creature that needs to scare you in order to survive.

Jean made sure to keep that in mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Monstrously Mild**  
**Ch 3**

* * *

The rest of that first morning seemed to pass by in a blur, especially because Jean had woken up somewhat late. Jean's mother couldn't complain. From the sound of things, her son was having a great time playing in his room. She might have changed her tune if she'd known that it was because of a creature potentially capable of making her son have a panic attack, but ignorance was bliss. A little past noon, just after she'd made chicken sandwiches with a side of salad (unknowingly feeding an extra mouth by doing so), there was a knock at the door.

"Jean, hon, Connie and Sasha are here! Wash up, okay?" Jean's mother called from downstairs. Jean grumbled a little at having to wash up first, but he knew he'd never be able to take so much as one step outside if he didn't listen.

"I'll be back, Marco, I'm gonna go play outside for a while." Jean said. He was about to leave it at that, but then he paused and asked another question "…What do you usually do when I'm not around, anyway?" Jean asked.

"Play in my room." Marco said a little sadly, motioning to the closet with a tendril.

"…Do you ever have any company or anything?" Jean said curiously, trying to imagine what two monsters playing together would look like. What did other monsters even look like? What does Marco's room even look like?

"…No…" Marco said rather dejectedly. "Supposed stay here. Until I scare better." Marco explained somberly… and perhaps just a bit bitterly, since Jean noticed a wave of red pulse through his eyes.

"What's the big deal with scaring people? I think you're really good at it." Jean said, trying to be reassuring.

"Parents not think it. Scare important to them. In blood, in family… Best scare. Best forms for scare. But not me." Marco said. "I… mistake…" he said with a whimper and a tremble in his voice.

"…A mistake?" Jean asked. "That can't be right!" he asserted, but Marco shook his head.

"Is true. Am mistake. No good scare, no good nothing." Marco said sadly, his eyes wet and muddy yellow.

"Don't say that…" Jean said, as Marco unthinkingly pulled him into a hug, and Jean started to hear a raspy, moaning, heaving noise coming from Marco. It was honestly sort of scary, in a haunting kind of way. "Uh… Marco?" Jean asked, but Marco only hugged tighter, his arms and tendrils all wrapped around Jean like he never wanted to be separated. As Jean started to feel his shoulder quickly growing wet, it occurred to him that Marco was crying. "Oh no… Marco…" Jean said softly, frowning but not exactly sure what to do. "Marco, what's wrong?" Jean tried, as he hesitantly hugged the monster boy back.

"I never said I want scare… B-but no one listen… No one… Krr'aghjus, jrisahyii llrgyrhise!" Marco cried in a choked up voice. "I want being imaginary friend! Why have to be scary monster?! H'ruyt jacvi?! Because look scary?! Gvasorfyej ma'jyakna! J'sdazgyo nyrfzreiza!"

"…Imaginary friend?" Jean asked softly, confused by why Marco didn't just use 'friend'.

"Imaginary friend and monster… both real." Marco quietly explained, calming down slightly. "Almost same thing." Marco said.

"…How does that even work?" Jean said. The two concepts seemed so incredibly different to him he could hardly put his mind around it.

"Monster make scare, make sad. Friend eat scare and sad from other things. Monster dark and ugly and bad. Friend happy and warm and fun." Marco explained.

"…But we're friends, aren't we? And I don't think you're dark or ugly or anything. So doesn't that make you more like an imaginary friend?" Jean asked.

"…But supposed be monster… Parents won't like…" Marco mumbled.

"Pfft. Kids don't listen to their parents all the time, or else nothing would ever be any fun at all. You can be whatever you want. That's what my mom always says." Jean said.

Marco pulled himself away from Jean, cocking his head as his large yellow eyes stared into Jean's smaller brown ones. "…You… You think… I can?" Marco asked.

"Yeah, of course! If you put enough effort into it, there's stuff everyone is good at!"

"Jean!" Marco cried happily, forcing Jean to the floor with a strong pounce. "You so smart, Jean!" Marco gushed, as he rolled onto his back and hoisted Jean into the air with his tendrils wrapped around his waist, giggling the whole time.

"Uh… Okay… I'm glad but… I kinda wanna get down…" Jean said sheepishly, wondering how on Earth such thin, flexible appendages had such strength in the first place. "Connie and Sasha will wonder what's taking so long…" Jean mumbled.

"Sorry!" Marco said, quickly putting Jean down. Jean could only sigh, but he also smiled a little too. He'd managed to pick the right thing to say.

In just a short time, Jean was out on his front porch in jeans and a Power Rangers T-shirt, and he could already see that Connie and Sasha seemed to have things they couldn't wait to tell him.

"Jean! Get your bat and glove, we're gonna play baseball!" Connie said excitedly.

"But we just played baseball yesterday…" Jean said. "I wanted to play kickball…or soccer"

"Well yeah, but some new kids just came today! A boy and a girl, and they're super good at baseball!" Connie said, shaking his fists in excitement.

"Plus, Armin already knows them! Of all people, Armin! Can you believe it?" Sasha threw in. Jean already knew why she put it like that.

"Oh come on guys, just because Armin isn't all that good at sports..." Jean started, trying not to laugh.

"You're only standing up for him 'cause if it wasn't for him, everyone'd be better than you." Connie joked, giving a high pitched laugh as Jean just glared at him.

"You're just mad 'cause everyone's taller than you." Jean countered with a snicker. "I'm pretty sure Bertholdt was BORN taller than you." Jean said, causing Sasha to giggle in spite of herself.

"Yeah well, that's 'cause Bert probably eats like 2 tons of vegetables every day. He's just weird like that. He LIKES brussel sprouts! What kind of kid could possibly like those things?! Bert, that's who!" Connie countered.

Jean could only laugh before he hurried back upstairs to get his bat and glove. Marco was there sitting on his bed, steadily exhaling a luminescent yellow smoke and stirring it about in the air with a pointy black rod of some kind. Jean momentarily forgot what he was even doing as he watched Marco somehow pull at the corners of the smoke with a rod, forming it into a cube. He then stuck the rod inside and carefully blew on the opposite end, filling the cube with swirls of gas in a multitude of different colors. Meanwhile, his spiracles seemed to be whistling some obscure little song, and he rhythmically bobbed back and forth to it.

"Hi Jean!" Marco chirped, looking up from the odd little cube full of colors and smiling widely at Jean.

"Hey, Marco…" Jean said as he reached for his baseball bat and glove in the closet. He stared at the colorful floating cube in wonder, and remembered Marco's words from just a little earlier, suddenly feeling a strong urge to just refuse Connie and Sasha and stay to hear about what Marco was doing. Jean wasn't dense, he knew it'd probably make Marco really happy even if he was acting like he was completely fine. But Connie and Sasha were his friends too, and already waiting for him, so Jean couldn't possibly do something like that. Instead, Jean compromised with a few parting words. "I'll be back soon. And then we'll play together, okay? So you don't have to cry anymore." Jean said.

"Okay!" Marco said happily, his tendrils wriggling. "Have fun Jean!"

* * *

With a friendly wave, Jean rushed back downstairs and out the front door. The baseball diamond, basically just a glorified empty lot, was on the other side of the block. When the trio reached it, sure enough, there were already two kids Jean had never seen before. One was a boy with dark brown hair and tanned skin. He had large, intense eyes, a striking sea foam green in color. The cheeky smile he gave Jean made Jean feel like he was one of those people who liked to be the boss or leader of things. But on the other hand, the girl was… something else.

Her eyes were calm and black, but there was an undercurrent of strength and self-confidence. She had stunning black hair that came to her shoulders, so shiny and silky that Jean could hardly believe it. Her skin was much lighter than the boy's, and every little feature of her face seemed nice to Jean. What in the world was _her _name?!

"Hey! Mine's Eren! What's about yous?!" the boy shouted, enthusiastically running up to meet Jean and his friends. Jean thought his way of speaking was a little funny, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm Sasha!" Sasha said, matching his enthusiasm.

"My name's Jean." Jean said simply. There was… something… about these two kids. He wasn't sure what, and it didn't really seem like a bad thing, but there was… Something. But the girl was really really pretty, so he didn't really want to jump to conclusions or hurt her feelings.

"I'm Connie. Word around the neighborhood is you're pretty good at baseball! Is that right?!" Connie said excitedly. For someone so small, he definitely had a lot of guts.

"I'd said… say so!" Eren said, not letting the falter in his speech interfere with his smile. He then pulled the girl next to him closer and beamed. His teeth were so white and straight Jean could hardly believe it. How much did his mom make him brush?! "Me and Mikasa good! Very good!" Eren said with a laugh.

"Hello…" Mikasa said in a more subdued tone.

'_Oh wow, even her voice is pretty…' _Jean thought.

"Where are you from, Eren?" Sasha asked. "You have a funny accent!" she pointed out.

"I-is not!" Eren said defensively. But Jean honestly agreed with Sasha… and it was definitely somewhat familiar… "And uh, I'm from…"

"Germany." Mikasa added on for him.

"Oh, yeah, Germany!" Eren said, laughing sheepishly.

"SAY SOMETHING GERMAN!" Connie immediately blurted out, his interest now more piqued than ever.

"Ah…uh…schadenfreude." Eren said.

"Gesundheit." Mikasa added on.

Jean was a bit suspicious, but Connie and Sasha seemed genuinely satisfied, and he really didn't want that Mikasa girl to hate him…

"Mikasa, are you his girlfriend?!" Sasha quickly asked with a giggle. Jean was suddenly really hoping she said no. Not like it was any of his business though.

"Ah… yes." Mikasa said, making Jean's heart sink a little. "Very much Eren's friend." she said.

"Have you kissed?!" Connie and Sasha both asked in perfect sync, having seemingly forgotten about baseball in light of this very important development. Jean wasn't so impressed.

"Yes! Kiss Mikasa lots!" Eren said, earning a prolonged 'awww' from Sasha and a scowl from Jean. But then Eren turned his head and noticed Armin, which caused him to add on something no one was exactly expecting. "And Armin too!" Eren said, quickly going over to hug the small blonde boy and kiss his cheeks and forehead.

"Eren!" Armin cried, giggling at the sudden affection.

"Wait, what?" Sasha said, her expression one of absolute shock and bewilderment.

"WOAH HOLD UP." Connie shouted, his eyes wide in astonishment. Meanwhile, Jean could almost care less that Eren had just kissed Armin, because the whole puppylike 'boundless amounts of physical affection for everything' thing was getting REALLY familiar…

"Eren, you're not s'posed to do that!" Sasha cried in mortification.

"Yeah, isn't that cheating?!" Connie cried.

"How are you s'posed to get married to both of them?! Can people do that in Germany?!" Sasha asked frantically. It was most likely the most scandalous thing she had ever seen in her short life.

"…Married?" Eren said, quickly looking to Armin with a lost, almost panicked expression.

"I think Eren and Mikasa just misunderstood what you guys meant." Armin said calmly. "We're just really good friends, not actually boyfriend or girlfriend."

"_Yes!" _Jean whispered to himself.

"THEN WHY DO YOU GUYS KISS?!" Connie asked, as if his desire to know was about to kill him.

"Yeah, why?!" Sasha added on.

"That's normal where he's from. If you kiss your friends on the cheeks and stuff, it doesn't mean you LIKE-like them." Armin explained.

"But Armin, I do like-like you! I like yous very much, so I like-like yous!" Eren said almost immediately afterwards, seemingly very disappointed Armin had even said such a thing.

"No, Eren, boyfriend and girlfriend mean a different kind of love… You know, the romantic kind." Armin said.

"Ooooohhhh…" Eren said, seemingly to become ever-so-slightly embarrassed before giggling it off.

"I get it now!" Connie exclaimed.

"Yeah, I was really getting worked up for a second there…" Sasha said, sighing in relief.

"Okay, guys, can we play baseball now?" Jean asked, just unbelievably glad that Eren wasn't _actually _Mikasa's boyfriend.

Connie and Sasha both jumped a little, having apparently forgotten about the game almost entirely, but they quickly agreed.

The simple act of picking teams was a challenge in itself. Connie and Sasha were both already so convinced that Eren and Mikasa were good that they wanted to be on their team, even though it wouldn't be fair unless it was a three-on-three game.

"Let's just go get Bertholdt. He'll be on Jean and Armin's side, he almost never says no to anything." Connie said.

"We don't know where he lives though! He just kinda shows up and then goes home, right?" Sasha said.

"Oh, right! We'll get Reiner then!" Connie said.

"You dingdong, we don't know where Reiner lives either!" Sasha cried.

"Really? I feel like I asked him before… but I guess that doesn't matter, I don't remember what he told me…" Connie said.

"Okay then, we'll get Thomas… And… Daz…" Connie said.

"Ew, really? Daz? He's so… Daz…" Sasha said, making a face.

"Yeah… we'll get Franz then." Connie said.

"Wait, what about Mina? We haven't played with her in a while!" Sasha said.

"She's been weird lately. Isn't she always napping in the middle of the day now?" Connie asked.

"Yeah, she told me she's been having nightmares or something…" Sasha said with concern and minor disappointment.

"But if we ask Annie…" Connie's eyes widened a little, and he immediately backtracked. "No. Not Annie."

"NEVER Annie." Sasha said. "She gives me the creeps. No one even knows anything about her."

"She's… not so bad…" Armin said softly, but Connie and Sasha just looked at him like he'd grown two heads, then turned back to each other and kept speaking.

"Don't Bert and Reiner know her?" Connie asked.

"Who cares, we're never asking Annie for anything in the whole world ever." Sasha said impatiently. "…OOH, wait, wait, what about Christa?" Sasha asked excitedly.

"T-the rich girl?" Connie said with mild exasperation, although Jean noticed Armin suddenly get a hopeful expression, while Connie's voice became somewhat squeakier and he idly kicked a foot against the dirt. "Well, she's like, practically a princess, y'know? Does she even know how to hold a bat? Is she even allowed to get dirty?" Jean knew the feeling. Christa was easily the second prettiest girl, after Mikasa. Plus, she was super nice. Like, all the time. He sighed a little just thinking about it.

"And then there's Hannah!" Sasha said.

"Oh, that's great! Franz will definitely come if we get Hannah to come." Connie said, snickering.

"Okay then! Jean, you go get Franz, I'll get Hannah. Connie, don't tease Eren or Mikasa." Sasha said.

"Oh come on, potato girl, I never tease anyone!" There was a dead silence, during which Sasha could only stare at Connie in disbelief. "What? What did I- OH. OH I DIDN'T MEAN THAT I JUST-"

"Whatever, Connie." Sasha said, walking away.

"NO REALLY, THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Connie called after her.

"You are funny guys!" Eren said, as Jean just giggled to himself and walked off to get Franz.

Franz's house was on the block across the street from where they played baseball, but from where Jean was, Franz was on the left side of the block rather than directly across the street. All-in-all, just a few minutes away. Everything was completely ordinary until Jean was almost there, at which point he noticed a black cat with bright yellow eyes and splotches of brown fur jump out of a nearby bush and begin to follow him with a somewhat awkward and unusual gait. Being rather fond of cats, such an occurrence was more than enough to completely distract the young boy.

"Kitty!" Jean said with glee, happy that the small animal was letting him approach. In fact, it was also approaching at the same time, affectionately rubbing against his legs. He even started happily rubbing the cat, at least until something the cat did made him completely freeze up.

"Jean, it's me!" the cat spoke in an all-too-familiar voice. Jean could only stare, his eyes wide.

"…M-Marco?" Jean gasped. "You can be a cat?"

Marco nodded. "Family talent… Moving weird though…" Marco said, lifting each paw and shaking it in disdain.

"Why a cat though? Can't you just be invisible?" Jean asked. He was a little proud of himself for being able to progress to calmly asking about it so quickly. When it came to Marco, he was starting to figure that being too surprised just made everything more complicated.

"Need disguise in direct sun. Hurts without. Lots." Marco explained, as he flopped onto his side. "Sun not like yours where I from."

"Oh… Why'd you come then? Does it hurt or anything when you turn into something else?" Jean asked, hoping Marco hadn't gone through too much trouble.

"Came to watch Jean do baseball. Not hurt to be cat. Hard walking, though. Can you carry me?" Marco asked hopefully.

"…I guess that's fine." Jean said, as he picked his friend up. "…How do you get so much smaller, anyway? Where's all the extra size go? Did you crawl out of your old body or something?" Jean asked, hoping the answer wasn't yes as he imagined Marco's old skin and guts lying on his bedroom floor.

"Not sure how. It just… happen." Marco vaguely explained.

"Are you like, magic or something?" Jean asked, as he started to walk towards Franz's house again.

"Don't think so." Marco said, after a brief moment of thought.

"But you can change shape… and open portals… and do that thing with the gas and the feelings…" Jean said.

"Are you magic 'cause sun not hurt you?" Marco asked.

"No, that's just normal… Oh, I think I get what you're saying…" Jean said.

"And you do that thing when the water come from skin…" Marco said.

"What?" Jean asked, not really understanding.

"Water drops all over skin, when heart go fast or when hot…" Marco said.

"You mean… sweating?" Jean asked uncertainly.

"Yeah! Why? Where water come from? How it come out of skin?" Marco asked.

"I dunno…you're saying you can't sweat?"

"Never."

"Huh…" Jean said, before noticing he had almost passed Franz's house, modestly sized but made of brick and relatively new. "Oh, we're here!" Jean said. "This is my friend Franz's house. I was gonna ask him to play baseball… You know what baseball is, right?" Jean asked, realizing the answer might actually be no.

"Mostly." Marco said, as Jean briefly put him down to knock on the doorbell.

Within a moment or two, a boy that looked somewhat like Connie, but taller, less skinny, and somewhat darker came to the door. "Hey, Jean!" Franz said happily. "…Oh wow, when did you get a cat? How'd you get him to come with you?!"

"He's uh… really smart… and not really mine. I just kind of found him and gave him some food." Jean said, hoping it was good enough.

"Oh, does that mean he can do tricks too?! I never thought cats could do tricks! Kitty, roll over!" Franz cried excitedly. Jean wasn't exactly surprised when Marco actually listened.

"Awesome!" Franz said.

"Uh, Franz…" Jean said, but Franz didn't hear him.

"Play dead!" Franz told Marco, who immediately obeyed, and seemed to actually be sort of enjoying himself. "How many fingers am I holding up?!" Franz said, as he held up six fingers, and Marco happily replied with six meows. By this time, Franz was already beside himself with glee. "Speak!" Franz commanded next.

"W-wait!" Jean cried in mortification, but Franz completely ignored him, and Marco had already said 'Hi, Franz! This is fun!' in the most chipper tone possible, and Franz had definitely heard him. Jean almost thought it was the end of the world. But luckily, Franz didn't seem to realize that no matter how talented a cat was, that wasn't supposed to be even remotely possible.

"Oh my gosh, Jean, this is the best cat ever in the whole world! Can I have him?!" Franz said with oblivious excitement, while Jean just looked like he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Meanwhile, Marco looked very pleased with himself.

"Well, you can't, because he's already my friend. Plus, if you take him, I won't tell you the news about _Hannah_." Jean said, stressing her name in a teasing fashion. Predictably, Franz's fixation on Marco came to a screeching halt.

"Hannah? Uh, um, w-what about Hannah?" Franz asked, suddenly looking much more anxious than before.

"We're playing baseball, and I bet she's gonna be there. You know, I heard she really likes guys who are good at baseball… and there's a new boy who says he's really good… So it'd be a shame if-" Jean didn't even have to finish talking.

"Okay, I'm coming!" Franz said with utmost determination. "I CAN GO PLAY BASEBALL WITH JEAN, RIGHT MOM?" Franz called into his house, with a look that practically begged her to say yes. "…OKAY, THANKS." Franz said, after Jean heard a faint female voice call back. "I would've come anyway, by the way. Really!" he tacked on.

"Uh huh, okay." Jean said, as he picked Marco up and started walking away, followed by Franz… Who was now so worked up he ended up overtaking Jean anyway.

* * *

"I'm back!" Jean announced as they walked onto the empty lot. He smirked when he noticed Sasha had successfully retrieved Hannah, and she and Franz were already gravitating towards each other. Oh, what poor suckers… Tied up in something as stupid and icky as love… Meanwhile, he was playing it smart! No dumb icky feelings messing with his head, nuh-uh!

"Jean…" Mikasa said, looking at him intently. Jean almost choked on his own spit.

"Y-yes, Mikasa?!" Jean forced out, while immediately trying to make himself look cooler.

"Where from is the cat?" Mikasa asked in a soft yet stern tone, studying Marco closely. Marco leaned forward to sniff her, but quickly recoiled after only a moment. It almost sounded like Mikasa was accusing Jean of something…

"Oh, y-y'know, heh, I found him, and he was really nice, s-so I just kinda…like… picked him up, y'know?" Jean said, not sure why he was suddenly stumbling over his words so much.

Eren came forward and sniffed Marco just as Marco sniffed Eren, and they both recoiled at the same time. Eren suddenly flashed Jean a very stern look, then took him by the wrist and started leading him off into some bushes and trees in the back of the lot. "Gonna ask about cat!" Eren called out to everyone else with a cheerful tone, and they seemed to accept it without question.

"You not a cat." Eren almost immediately said to Marco, once they were sufficiently hidden. Marco looked very surprised for a moment, but then wormed his way out of Jean's arms and answered with a string of something Jean couldn't even begin to understand.

"You know him already?" Eren said to Jean, while pointing to Marco.

"Uh…yeah…he lives in my closet." Jean explained. Eren literally growled for a moment, but Mikasa grabbed his shoulder.

"Why he not took none of your soul from you?" Eren asked. "How he is cat?"

"Disguise…" Marco said, as he maneuvered to the shadiest spot in the bush cover and took his green-skinned humanoid form, in a rather nauseating and unceremonious process of squelching, bulging, stretching, and contorting. Jean really wished he didn't look, as fascinating as it was. Luckily, he was also wearing shorts again in his humanoid form. Which was relieving, but not really convincing Jean that Marco wasn't somehow magical.

"Ah, talent!" Eren said with a smile, before turning to Jean again. "Why no soul?" Eren asked again.

"I dunno, it was kinda gross looking and I didn't want to eat it…" Jean said in discomfort.

"…Huh?" Eren said, looking rather dumbfounded. "…Didn't want to eat…" Eren thought for a moment, then his eyes widened, widened more than any human eye should until he had two pairs just like Marco's, but a sort of stormy grayish-green color. Jean felt a little bit queasy again at the sight, but he quickly sucked it up. "A trade?!" Eren said, looking to both Jean and Marco.

"Jean friend." Marco explained. "Very nice." He said warmly, with a toothy grin

"But… green skin… armor tendrils… animal talent… You… Bowyhqisgyxsu'zdt?" Eren said. Marco nodded.

"…But… Bowyhqisgyxsu'zdt!" Eren said again, disbelieving. "Meanest, toughest, scariest... Kids get nightmares for moons, for moons, for moons! Make kids wet bed! Make kids cry, make scream, make go crazy! Make kids want death! Seventh best scare family in whole country!" Eren said. Marco's eyes became a murky yellow and he looked away as Eren continued to speak. "Why yous Jean friend?"

"Maybe he just wants to, you ever think of that?" Jean said snappily, already noticing how Marco was becoming uncomfortable.

"…Is he…_alright_?" Eren said with an odd sort of stress on the word. "Did zdakrrujyi mix the egg bad?" he wondered aloud.

"Stop…" Marco said, eyes becoming murkier than ever.

"Maybe...parents gave up?" Eren wondered aloud. Marco's eyes darkened even further, they were verging on black now.

"Eren…don't…" Mikasa urged, but Eren didn't stop. Funnily enough, he didn't really seem to go too much further either. He just uttered some string of complicated syllables, and then suddenly, Marco seemed to be completely different. His eyes were entirely black, so deeply, disturbingly black they had no shine or gloss at all, simply looking like eerie, gaping holes. His skin seemed to bubble and slough as his spiracles opened wide and sucked in a vast amount of air. His four tendrils tore open the front of his chest, slowly revealing just a small part of an unholy menagerie of writhing, oozing, quivering madness…

Then both the sight and sound of him vanished from Jean's perception, but apparently not Eren's. The brown-haired boy let out a scream like nothing Jean had ever heard before, and he and Mikasa could only cover their ears as Eren began crying and frantically shouting indecipherable things. His hands became webbed and clawed and his skin became moist, grey, and rough as something hoisted him high into the air by his legs. Six long, greyish, squidlike tentacles extended from his back, coming out through his sleeves and collar and writhing about wildly. He frantically reached towards the ground and seemed to grab the shadows of the bushes themselves, his hands melting into them and his arms stretching to unnatural lengths as he desperately scrambled to pull himself towards them, muttering and hissing fretfully to himself in his own language the entire time.

"Eren!" Mikasa shouted, her voice rife with worry. Jean could only watch in confused, horrified silence. "Eren! Eren!" Mikasa cried, trying to pull him away from Marco's invisible horror. But just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Eren suddenly fell, dropping right into the shadows, even causing them to 'splash'. Jean was extremely confused by the sight of it. The only part of Eren he could see was his foot and ankle, being pulled up by Mikasa now that Marco had let go. The rest of him had gone into the shadowy ground as if it were a pool of water. Marco appeared to Jean again shortly afterwards. He was panting heavily, retracting the last of a few barb-covered, oozing tendrils back into a steadily closing seam on his chest. Once Mikasa pulled Eren back up onto solid ground, Marco simply inhaled deeply, pulling an absolutely tremendous cloud of dense, black gas from Eren's body. For a moment, it covered such a wide area that Jean could only see pure darkness around him.

"What did you do to Eren?!" Mikasa shouted indignantly, as she bent down and held him in an elevated position, away from Marco.

Marco responded with an angry, miserable, breathless sounding burst of strange words.

"It was very rude of Eren, but still…" Mikasa said, glaring angrily at Marco. "He's not hurt..." Mikasa said with a sigh of relief. "But never, ever, EVER do it again, alright? I don't care WHAT you look like…" Mikasa said with a literal growl, although it seemed more like an imitation rather than the sounds Eren and Marco could make. Marco only nodded before going over to Jean and burying his face in the boy's shoulder, hugging him tightly. "He…he made me mad, Jean… he… made… so mad… He not mean it but… it hurts, Jean…" Marco muttered. Jean just absent-mindedly hugged him back, trying not to think of whatever the world could make anyone, let alone another monster, act as if they honestly believed they were going to die a horrible death. "I… I don't want hurt nobody, Jean. Honest I don't. You… you believe me, right?" Marco said quietly, softly, his voice cracking and whining as he did so.

"I believe you, Marco… Everyone gets mad sometimes." Jean said, not really sure what else to say. The wrong words could have devastating consequences. Eren got up shortly afterwards, looking rather disoriented but overall okay.

"That was…" Eren started, and Marco turned towards him, his eyes still murky, his body shaking slightly in anticipation of hatred and scorn. "That was FUCKING AMAZING!" Eren cried. Jean internally cringed at the swear word, but then again, there were no adults around. "Oh, Jean, yous very lucky! So lucky! So lucky! Yous be dead! It was best thing ever! I thought I was gonna pass out!" Eren cried, with an almost disturbingly passionate look in all four eyes. Mikasa cleared her throat behind him, and he quickly calmed down. "Argjhynyi fjsanzkyo, Marco. Yuhhrjysie." Eren said slowly, in the tone of an apology, as he spat a sphere of some glowing substance in his hand and then offered it to Marco, who hesitantly accepted. After inhaling its gases, Marco gave a faint smile. Eren extended tentacles from his back, which came up through his shirt collar and intertwined with two of Marco's own tendrils.

"Are… are things okay now?" Jean mumbled, suddenly feeling incredibly drained.

"Yes! Eren sorry, so I okay now." Marco said.

"…We're going home, I don't even wanna play baseball anymore... That was enough for one day…" Jean sighed, only just beginning to realize how weak his knees were feeling.

"I mess day up…" Marco mumbled, but Jean quickly spoke up.

"No, of course not! How was I s'posed to know Eren would make you angry? And why was he upset about the soul thing?"

"He was just worry! Thought you maybe done things to me, or I too weak. Dangerous in sun without soul… Need human soul for look human." Marco said.

"And what the heck was up with the thing where he fell through the ground and the shadows were like water?" Jean asked.

"Family talent. Shadow swimmer." Marco explained. "Make shadow liquid for him."

"And Mikasa…" Jean started. "What's with her? She didn't change shape or speak any of your language, but it seems like she understands you and isn't afraid of you…" Jean said.

"She…human…I…think… Smells human. But also like where we from." Marco said, sounding somewhat confused about it himself. "Where we from very dangerous for human… So… Not sure how…" Marco continued.

"..So like, how sure are you? Just curious." Jean asked, trying not to sound desperate.

"Mostly sure." Marco said.

"…Okay…" Jean said, finding that he strongly preferred to believe that Mikasa was in fact perfectly human and there was a good explanation for everything.

Jean could hardly feel any remorse as he told everyone he was just going to go home for the day, with Marco already by his side as a cat. After all, they could still ask Thomas. He let them keep the bat and just drop it off later, once Sasha pinky swore that she wouldn't let anyone steal or "borrow" it. A birthday present is one of a kid's greatest prides, after all.

As they walked back home, Jean couldn't help but feel he had to ask another question.

"Hey, uh, Marco… Not to be weird, but… Do you ever think humans are pretty?" Jean asked.

"Yes." Marco responded.

"Okay, so like, do you think Mikasa is pretty? I mean, not only that, she's so brave, too… Like, wow…"

"Mmm… Jean is definitely prettier." Marco said.

"What?!" Jean cried, causing Marco to giggle uncontrollably.

"Pretty pretty Jean!" Marco teased, enjoying the redness of Jean's cheeks.

"I'm not pretty! Boys aren't s'posed to be pretty!" Jean cried.

"Says who?" Marco asked.

"…Uh… Wait, that's actually kind of a good question…" Jean mumbled. "…Uh…The Man, that's who!"

"Who's that?"

"Some guy my dad complains about a lot. Says he's keeping us down or something." Jean answered.

"He just man, what he know?" Marco asked. "Your dad is man too, but he not even know I real."

"…Wow…" Jean said to himself, having honestly never thought of it that way. "Look at me, getting educated by Garfield over here…."

"Huh?" Marco asked.

"It's a joke. I'll explain when we get home, okay?" Jean said.

"Okay." Marco said. "…Pretty boy…" Marco added on, snickering as Jean blushed again.

Jean was absolutely sure he was going to have one of the weirdest summers of any kid ever. Except maybe the Digidestined. Their summer was pretty weird too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Monstrously Mild**  
**Ch 4**

* * *

The rest of that day went rather smoothly, even though Marco was still somewhat worried that he had ruined Jean's day. But Jean assured him it was fine every time he tried to ask about it, especially because he'd never really wanted to play baseball very badly in the first place. They mostly passed the time watching cartoons, with Marco asking questions now and then. Jean got the feeling he was either extremely perceptive or considerably restraining his curiosity, since he was honestly prepared for Marco to talk more. However, the real turning point was when Jean absent-mindedly grabbed for his stuffed horse while sitting on his bed, and realized something potentially life-changing in the process.

Horses were animals.

Marco could become animals.

Even if they weren't close in size.

Therefore, Marco could probably turn into a horse.

The thought threw Jean's young imagination into a frenzy, as he thought about the sheer glory of it all. A horse all to himself. He wouldn't need a stable or a ton of room or a bunch of hay or any of the frustrating things that kept Jean from having a horse before, because he's actually just Marco. He wouldn't need to be trained, because Marco was already smart enough to understand directions. He wouldn't even have to be taken to a vet! How had Jean not realized this before? He was sitting right next to what was probably the greatest thing that could ever happen to a boy! All his equine desires were finally within grasp, and now all he needed was a plan of action!

"Marcoooooo!" Jean cried, throwing himself at the boy sitting next to him and hugging him tight. "You know we're friends, right?" Jean said as sweetly as possible, smiling at the green-skinned child.

"Y-yeah!" Marco answered, caught off guard but obviously quite happy, if the wriggling ends of his tendrils and bright yellow eyes were any indication.

"But did you know we're already _best _friends?" Jean carefully ventured, his voice still practically dripping with sugar and honey.

"R-really?!" Marco said, as his tendrils suddenly flung themselves around Jean and he did his literal ear-to-ear smile. "Jean really care that much?" Marco asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we're best friends!" Jean repeated.

"W-wow!" Marco said, as if Christmas had come early. Before Jean could even get any further, Marco had already reached a tendril down his throat (how he didn't gag was beyond Jean) and yanked out a glowing, light green blob, covered in tiny squirming tendrils and dripping with ooze. Jean froze. Marco simply continued to grin like the Cheshire Cat, gently pushing it towards him. He still had to do the soul thing. Of _course _he still had to do the soul thing. Who the hell did he think he was, expecting to get a horse for nothing? Jean could only force himself to continue smiling as he shakily reached for the chunk of soul, noting how it was even warmer and slimier and less pleasant in real life. Jean considered his options as fast as his young mind possibly could. If he hesitated, Marco would find out it was a trick. And Jean still wasn't sure if he really wanted a guy who could stab holes through cans and lift him into the air to be mad at him, even if he was exceptionally kind and sensitive. If he outright refused, Marco would feel betrayed. That was probably just as likely to cause a bad reaction. If he tried for a distraction, Marco might see through it. …So, it seemed there was only one productive way to approach this situation. Because god damnit, he wanted a horse one way or another.

Jean took a deep breath, hoped it'd all be worth it in the end, and swallowed the green blob. Despite its slimy texture, it really wasn't too hard. It seemed to begin melting in his mouth immediately, and it had an unexpectedly rich and pleasant taste, somewhere between peanuts, apples, and caramel. Once that passed, it finished off with a brief, subtle aftertaste that was like a slightly bitter cross between mint and broccoli. Some of the essence invaded Jean's nose in the process, and he found it had a moist, sweet, earthy kind of smell, like he was in the middle of a damp forest full of ripe fruit.

And then came the aftermath. Strange pictures, unfamiliar memories, sights, sounds, words, pouring into his mind as some chaotic yet almost beautiful deluge of information. There was a vibrant orange sun, peering through the tallest trees he'd ever seen, with massive leaves and bark of a rich mahogany. Meanwhile, he ran on the shore of a sparkling lake, chasing little flying lights that he somehow knew weren't just fireflies. Something in the air changed in the middle of the chase, and he ran for the cover of the trees, climbing them with skill that wasn't his as he watched something bubble beneath the water. Excitement that was both his yet not his at all welled up inside of him as a massive, long-necked reptilian creature briefly stuck its head out of the water and then dove deep, allowing him a glimpse of its wide, powerful flippers as it did so. And that was far from the only memory. In one, he was swinging on thick tree branches, his arms long, bifurcated and green. In another, both his arms and tendrils worked together to excitedly tear a dead log apart. He was disgusted, yet somehow elated to find a fat yellow grub inside, as big and thick as his thigh. In yet another memory, he chased beautiful white rabbits across a vast clearing of snow and ice, only to catch one and discover it was made of the very snow and ice it had just been running upon.

This process had Jean so overwhelmed he hardly even registered Marco carefully sucking out and then swallowing a portion of his own soul, which still looked like the same swirling ball of crimson and cinnamon he'd seen in his mind.

But when it was over, after some brief period that simultaneously felt like years, Jean heard Marco speak. It was different from his usual voice, somehow. More confident, more natural and flowing somehow.

"Is everything alright, Jean?" he said. It was also significantly louder than Jean remembered, enough to make him back away a little. Come to think of it, colors had all become louder and more obnoxious than before, even seeming to bleed over the edges of objects.

"I… I think so."

"Yeah, if you understood that, then that means you should pretty much be okay. I'm so glad! This is really great, Jean!" Marco said, once again with unusual clarity and proficiency. What did he mean by 'if you understood that', anyway? And why was he so loud?

"Marco, I…my eyes hurt…" Jean complained, squinting as he continued to look around the obnoxiously bright and colorful room.

"That's fine. Just close them and relax a little, okay? …Uh, I'm probably talking too loud too, is that right?" Marco said. Jean could tell he was trying to be gentle, but it was still like his voice was right in his ear.

"Y-yeah… And you… Why are you so much better at it?" Jean asked.

"I didn't get any better. If you pay attention, you'll notice this isn't English." Marco replied. With a start, Jean realized he was right, especially when he closed his eyes and blocked out all the light. It was actually the same language he'd heard before, but now every word automatically made sense.

"Why didn't you tell me all of this before…" Jean mumbled, as he flopped down on the bed and clutched his head. "It's so much… just… so… much… everything." Jean grumbled, as he realized a headache was quickly forming.

"I'm really sorry. It was probably a little strong for you… maybe I gave you too much because I was excited." Marco said, as he laid down next to Jean and held him close, then began doing an odd, gurgling vibrating purr. Jean's mind was being pulled in so many directions he couldn't even protest, and he had to admit the vibrations were sort of helping.

"When does all the… y'know, weird stuff stop?" Jean almost wished he didn't ask, because Marco stopped vibrating to answer.

"You should be fine in a little while, but it might take a few days to be completely used to everything. I'm really sorry. I really didn't think this far ahead. I already knew what it'd be like, so I kind of just…" Marco trailed off sheepishly.

"…It's okay." Jean said. "I… I can tell from all the new stuff I know… I'm your first friend, aren't I? I've hardly seen anyone else in these memories…"

"Yeah… I tried not to give you anything too scary or sad." Marco said.

"I hardly even see your parents…" Jean added.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Marco added on, a bit snappily.

"…Uh… No? You just said you didn't give me anything sad or scary…"

"….Exactly." Marco replied. Jean could feel a sympathetic twinge of hurt, but Marco quickly kept talking. "I see your parents all the time though! And all those kids from earlier today, too! And your relatives!" he said jovially. "That's so nice, Jean! Everyone loves you so much!"

"…I don't see anyone." Jean mumbled with concern. "I see a lot of things, but… Why don't I see any other monster people?" Jean asked.

"You know why." Marco mumbled.

"Uh…no I don't? That's why I'm asking?" Jean responded somewhat sassily, but an odd twinge of sorrow, quickly told him he probably shouldn't have said that. Especially not with an attitude.

"It's because nobody-" Marco started, with dark yellow eyes.

"Marco, wait." Jean interrupted, already dreading what the next words would be. "Don't finish that."

"You already know what it is, don't you?" Marco grumbled, the yellow of his eyes becoming darker.

"Yeah, but it's so… I dunno, it's just a bad thing to say."

"Well it's true, and now you know it." Marco said, as he let go of Jean and sat up on the bed.

"Well it's not true, because I-"

"Don't try to say it yourself, because I know you only did this so you could ask me to turn into a horse." Marco said. Jean felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. He could plainly feel how upset Marco was about that particular detail. "I didn't even need any of your soul, I could already tell by how you were looking. It's pretty hard to lie to us, just so you know." Marco explained. "But still… I was really happy when you said you were my best friend! And I didn't think that you would actually take my soul, but you did! So that counts for something, right?! We can still be really great friends, even if it was just to make me feel like I should do something for you in return!" Marco said happily. Jean was rather disturbed by how sincere it was. He wanted to believe it was just something to make him feel guilty about what he did, but as far as he could tell, Marco was honestly saying he was so happy he didn't even care that Jean wasn't entirely honest. Which ironically made him feel even guiltier than any actual guilt trip could. In Marco's position, Jean would definitely be pissed off by now.

"You… you don't have to become a horse…" Jean mumbled, cheeks reddening with shame. "And you don't have to settle for things like that..." Jean continued.

"What do you mean?" Marco asked.

"I mean like what you just said. What I said wasn't okay. It was mean. I took a vantage…wait no, ADvantage of you." Jean said.

"But I knew all along, so it's okay." Marco said obliviously.

"No, don't you know anything?!" Jean cried. "People should be nice for nice reasons! It doesn't matter, that's just how it should be!"

"But you're already the nicest person I've ever met, Jean! You never try to hurt me, and you always listen, and you make me happy, and you smell nice, and you don't laugh at me. So if you act that way sometimes, it doesn't matter!" Marco reasoned.

"Yes it does!" Jean argued. "People aren't supposed to do mean things to you, and you're not supposed to let them!" he shouted. "How can you even be that stupid?!" Marco's eyes darkened, but he answered cheerily enough.

"Well, in storybooks, the nicest person always ends up with the best friends. So I figured that if I always acted nice, I'd get friends! And I was right, because now we're friends!" Marco responded. "And if I keep acting nice, eventually no one will be mean to me anymore!" Marco continued.

"You're wrong." Jean responded, wiping the smile off of Marco's face. "My mom says people should like you for who you really are. And if you're always nice, even when people don't deserve it-"

"But… Everyone deserves kindness!" Marco said. "Hurting people only makes it worse, so you should always just be nice!" Jean could only sigh deeply. What the heck was going to make this kid understand?

"Then why don't good guys always become friends with bad guys?" Jean asked.

"Because it's a story. They're the good guys, so they can do what they want, and they always win. But I'm not a good guy, so it won't work for me. I'm not really good at anything, and I don't ever win, so I can't do what they do. All I can do is be nice." Marco explained, sounding rather wistful as he said the last sentence.

"That's not true. You can do anything you want. Plus, you scared the pants off of Eren earlier, and he's not even a human." Jean told his friend.

"That… that was a mistake… and his pants were still on…" Marco answered. More than anything, it really just ticked Jean off.

"…You can do a lot, okay?!" Jean countered. "Like, what do you wanna do right now?"

"Uh…" Marco said, as he forced a smile. "What do you wanna do?" he asked, after a brief pause.

"No, I'm asking you! Pick something, and we can do it!" Jean said.

"…I don't know." Marco replied softly.

"There has to be SOMETHING! I've seen a million cool things from your memories, doesn't that give you ideas?" Jean asked.

"I can't take you to my world… It's too dangerous. Plus, I'm not from around here…" Marco said. "My parents put me here so I wouldn't try to come back home…" Marco explained.

"…So they ditched you?" Jean said, before suddenly being overwhelmed by a burst of deep regret, and rapidly opening his eyes again in horror. He almost instinctively knew what was about to happen next, but he could still hardly believe it. One moment, Marco was sitting beside him, and the next, he was pinning Jean to the bed. All four of his eyes were narrowed and blacker than coal, and a tendril was firmly wrapped around Jean's throat, with the claw pointing inwards.

"_Don't you EVER say that." _Marco hissed, his voice somehow echoing despite how lowly he spoke, as Jean looked back at him with wide, mortified eyes. The claw at the end of the constricting tendril was pressing into Jean's skin with more force than he'd like, and he suddenly remembered how Marco had opened the can of ravioli with sickening clarity.

But as soon as it had started, it had stopped. A thick black haze was pulled away from his skin, and Jean could only sit there in uncomfortable confusion as Marco backed away in horror, retracting his tendrils and clasping his hands over his mouth. "No… I… I didn't mean to do that…" Marco said, his eyes becoming a bit lighter in color and filling with tears. "I would never hurt you, Jean!" Marco said desperately, as he clumsily moved forward to hug him. But Jean reflexively kicked him back and moved as far away as his limited bed space would allow.

"Y-you were about to kill me…" Jean said in a small voice, gently putting a hand to his own throat.

"I-I was just upset, Jean! I made a mistake! I-I'm so sorry! I'll- uh... I'll be a horse! The... The best horse you've ever seen! Y-y-yeah, u-uhm, a stallion! A pegasus! A unicorn! Two heads! Six legs! Anything! Just… just don't hate me! I can do better! I can!" Marco frantically begged, as he dropped on his knees and took a groveling position. Marco's guilt and fear was welling up in Jean uncontrollably now, so despite his fear, Jean knew panicking wasn't actually going to help him… well, not be dead.

"Hey…" Jean started, after what felt like an eternity, although he still didn't dare get any closer to Marco. "I…uhm… I d-didn't mean to upset you… I-I didn't know you were so… so, uh, sensitive about them…" Jean said slowly.

"It'll be better some day." Marco said softly, as he sat upright. "As long as I keep trying to be the good guy, there'll be a happy ending…"

"H-hey… If you put it like that, do you like superheroes?" Jean gently asked. Anything to defuse the tension.

"Oh…y-yeah!" Marco said, his eyes lightening somewhat.

"Uhm… Do you know about Teen Titans?" Jean asked.

"No." Marco said. "What's that?"

"Only the best superhero cartoon ever! …I like the Powerpuff Girls too, but... don't tell anyone that..." Jean said, growing braver now that he seemed to have gotten Marco off the previous subject. "…Anyway, my mom recorded all the Teen Titans episodes so far!" Jean said, as he went over to a stand of various video games, DVDs, and VHS tapes near his TV and pulled out the appropriate VHS cases.

It didn't take long for Marco to react pretty much exactly as Jean hoped.

After a single episode, Marco was addicted.

Even though he was told how to use the remote to fast forward through commercials so each episode would only be about twenty-two minutes rather than thirty minutes, there were still twenty-two episodes that had aired so far. So that meant Marco watched Teen Titans for a little over eight hours straight, not even stopping when Jean brought him some spaghetti for dinner, or cherry pie for dessert. He'd just multitask. Jean was both impressed and a little worried by the sheer dedication. The worrying part was mostly because Marco would periodically get excited and move around while watching the show. Which wouldn't be so bad, if it didn't involve at least three occasions where Jean saw him hanging from the ceiling by his feet. In addition to that, there were several times where Marco would coil his tendrils together like a spiraling stalk and use them to balance his body above the ground, so he'd appear to be sitting in midair. Apparently, the very odd-looking action didn't even require him to be still, as he'd often swivel and sway his body on the tendril-stalk. Once, he was in the odd position for the majority of an episode, even managing to quickly rotate himself upside down and then right-side up again at one point, making Jean seriously wonder just _how _strong and flexible those tendrils were.

When Marco was finally done for the night, well after Jean was asleep, Jean had to deal with being woken up by Marco attempting to stealthily climb into bed.

"What the heck, Marco?!" Jean cried.

"I..I thought it was okay because you didn't say anything before! I don't have a bed and you looked really comfortable so-" Marco started, his voice rapid and fretful.

"…Fine…" Jean conceded, as he rolled over a bit to allow Marco some space. He managed to go back to sleep after that, but that didn't change the fact that he'd occasionally be woken up by claws pressing into his skin. Apparently, Marco had a strong tendency to grab him and wrap his tendrils around him in his sleep… Which was a bit unsettling, especially because every time he tried to move, Marco would mumble things like "Don't take him" or "Stop" or "Get away". It'd continue until Jean moved often or violently enough to wake Marco, at which point Marco would apologize… Only to do the exact same thing once he'd fallen asleep again.

Jean reflected incredulously on how in the span of about 24 hours, he had already gone and swallowed part of some monster's soul. Then that same monster almost killed him, then started crying, then developed an addiction to Teen Titans, then climbed into his bed and revealed that he was a very persistent and slightly painful cuddler. All because Jean had wanted a goddamn horse. Jean had never felt so incredibly stupid yet so incredibly lucky at the same time.

But it definitely wasn't the last time he'd feel that way.


End file.
